Actions have consequences. We must live with the choices we make. Fictional detectives are no different. Raymond Chandler wrote that “down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. The detective in this kind of story must be such a man. He is the hero, he is everything.”

And it is because our hero—our detective—must not be mean or tarnished, that writers have created the amoral—often psychotic—sidekick. They are the ones who do the heavy lifting—do what needs to be done—without the soul searching that makes our hero hesitate or would guiltily regret doing. The things the hero can’t do. That’s the job of Mouse for Easy Rawlins, Mick Ballou for Matt Scudder, Joe Pike for Elvis Cole, Lisbeth Salander for Mikael Blomkvist.

But there are other detective heroes—the ones in tarnished armor—who understand the consequences of their actions, take responsibility and live with the choices they make.

John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee. Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer. Sam Millar's Karl Kane. Ken Bruen's Jack Taylor. Richard Stark's Parker. Lee Child's Jack Reacher. My Rachel Cord. They don't need no psycho sidekicks.